Pratyeka

I carry my shopping bags straight to the second hand shop.

I shit out my food the moment I’ve gobbled it up.

Even better, the stove sits beside the rubbish bin.

I’m bailing this ocean as fast as it’s trickling in.

I knit at the same rate the sweater is being unraveled.

I pay at the tollbooth, then hit the off ramp when I travel.

One hand writes my memoir as fast as the other erases.

I envy old Sisyphus, blissfully slaving in stasis.

I skip from the table of contents straight to the appendix.

I lose my paycheck to poker before I can spend it.

Foreplay/orgasm conjoined by a single thin stroke.

I overdose from the very first butt that I smoke.

The peaks get sanded down, troughs fill with sand.

Erosion and gravity flatline the pulse of the land.

Flip over my birth certificate to print my obituary.

I’d get out of bed, but it strikes me as unnecessary.